Silence is Suicide.

Chapter Four

I headed back into the house and quietly shut the door. I didn't know where my mother was. She wasn't on the floor anymore. I swiftly sprinted into my room. My safe haven. I locked the dented, scratched door. Every dent or scratch on the door has a story, as well as every dent and scratch on my body has it's own story.

I heard the bath water running. I heard the front door slam. I held my breath and sat in the corner of my room. My knees tucked into my chest. I closed my eyes and strained my ears, trying to hear where the heavy footsteps were going. They were getting closer. I didn't dare to breathe. Finally, my parent's door slammed. My room shook. I let out a slow sigh of relief.

"BRIAN?" my mother screamed from the bathroom. "Brian are you home?"

The bedroom door slammed and my room shook again.

"What do you WANT FROM ME KAREN!?" my father screamed. He was enraged for some reason. Whenever he was drunk, like now, it was worse.

"You're an ass hole Brian! Don't ever think YOU can talk to ME in that tone!" she screamed back twice as loud. I'm still surprised that the neighbors haven't one: called the cops to complain about the noise or two: moved.

They fought back and fourth. I think the only reason they're still together is because they like to bicker with each other.

I grabbed my backpack and filled it with clothes and things i thought I needed. I put a hood-less jacket over my sweatshirt, put on my lucky gray converse, and opened my window. I looked around my room one less time. I never wanted to go back.

On my nightstand I realized my favorite picture of Annabel and I. It was the last picture of us taken. I reached for it and put it in my pocket. One last breath of unclean air and I climbed out the window. When I was outside, I shut the window tight so it looked like it was locked.

I started to walk. I didn't have a final destination to go to. I just needed to go anywhere away from here.